In 2002, as now, it was not hard to spot future politicos at Harvard's freshman activity fair. You couldn't miss them: glad-handing at the College Democrats table, distributing swag at the College Republicans booth, recruiting for "study groups" (networking sessions) at the Institute of Politics.
Wander off to the side, though, and you'd find a card table stacked with leaflets about immunization, clean water, and vitamin A, and how these simple things could save childrens' lives in the developing world. The student behind that table, friendly hand outstretched, would greet you and, before you could catch his name, lay out the vision of the Student Campaign for Child Survival: organizing college students around the country to lobby Congress on behalf of the world's poorest children. A big idea, and a decidedly practical one.
That guy—the one talking not about himself, but about changing the world; the one asking you to sign up for something that mattered—is now in close contention to become the nation's youngest governor.
His name is Clay Pell.
I met Clay as a fellow campus activist, and played a small role in helping him and his co-founders get the Student Campaign for Child Survival off the ground. We quickly became friends. I still work in activism and progressive politics today (though I'm writing in a strictly personal capacity). Many of those College Democrats and Republicans have headed off to Wall Street. Not Clay. The thing that drew me to him from the start remains true today: he lives not to get ahead, but to make a difference.
Although he didn't fit the mold of the aspiring politician, it was clear even in college that Clay might one day run for office.
It was in his blood. His grandfather, legendary six-term Rhode Island Senator Claiborne Pell, created Pell Grants, the National Endowment for the Arts, and landmark environmental laws. Clay grew up on his grandfather's knee. He once told me, as we carried pizza to our cafeteria table, that he wanted to make Pell grants available to everyone who needed them—so that going to college wouldn't require unaffordable loans. (He was prescient: since then, student debt loads tripled.)
Fast forward twelve years. Today, Clay's all grown up. After law school, he served as a judge advocate in the Coast Guard, supported foreign-language education at the Department of Education, and earned a Defense Meritorious Service Medal at the White House's National Security Council. He married the amazing Michelle Kwan. And now he's returned home, and is pouring all of his conviction, vision, and energy into a fight for Rhode Island's future.
Clay's campaign for governor is about the kinds of ideas that have always propelled him: common-sense progressive ideas that will change lives.
As you'd expect, he's a champion of health and education. As some might not expect of an heir to a famous name, he's the only gubernatorial candidate siding with working people, not with heirs, by opposing a reverse-Robin-Hood proposal to cut estate taxes and slash property tax relief for low-income Rhode Islanders. And Clay is alone in calling for an immediate minimum wage increase to $10.10 an hour.
Name the issue—from green jobs to public broadband Internet—and you'll find Clay's detailed vision to advance opportunity and justice. He's earned endorsements ranging from the Progressive Democrats of America to nurses' and teachers' unions, and refused campaign contributions from PACs and lobbyists. True to his student-organizing roots, his campaign's hallmark is its young volunteers, knocking on doors and talking about ideas.
I sat down with Clay recently to talk about the race. As we wrapped up, he grew reflective. "My grandfather used to talk about how there are progressive periods in history," he said, "and digestive periods—he was too polite to call them regressive."
Today, we're often stuck in that defensive crouch. But shoots of progress are emerging, as cities like Seattle and de Blasio's New York offer a glimpse of a more progressive future. Could Rhode Island play a similar role, as a flagship of innovation?
Yes, says Clay. "I believe," he told me, "that it's time that we not only defend what we've got (and we have to, because it's under attack)—but that we build up the model for the generation to come."
It's a big idea. But then, so was the Student Campaign for Child Survival. After Clay helped organize chapters in twenty states around the country, the campaign's model was replicated on a larger scale by Bono's ONE Campaign—which racked up policy victories that saved millions of lives.
For all the complexities of politics, to me, one thing is clear: Clay's the real deal. He's in this race for the right reason—to make a difference. He'll need all of our help to win. Sign me up.
The Providence Journal ran a version of this as a letter to the editor. Also: support Clay here.